The Lady In Question

by Victoria Alexander

  “The children?” She raised a brow. “I have not said I will marry you, nor, unless my memory has become as poor as my sister’s, do I recall you asking me.”

  “Why, I believe you’re right.” He widened his eyes in feigned surprise. “I can’t imagine I would have forgotten such a thing as asking you to marry me. Very well, then, I take it back.”

  “Take what back?”

  “You may be as scandalous as you wish.”

  “Oh, thank you for your kind dispensation,” she said dryly.

  “Think nothing of it.” He gestured graciously. “Indeed, I am quite looking forward to your scandalous behavior.” He leaned forward until his lips were a scant inch or so from hers. Was he going to kiss her? “As long as you confine said scandalous behavior to me.”

  “To you, my lord?”

  “Anthony,” he said, his gaze shifting from her gaze to her lips and back. “My friends call me Tony.”

  “Will I be a friend, then?” She certainly wanted him to kiss her.

  “Indeed you will.” He leaned nearer, his lips a mere breath away from her own.

  And this particular kiss would be vastly different from the last.

  “Delia,” she said, without thinking. “Or Philadelphia, really. But Delia is what my dearest friends and my family call me. If I am to call you Tony, you should call me Delia.”

  This kiss would be between Lady Wilmont and Lord Mysterious.

  “Very well. Delia.” He said her name as if it were a gift or the answer to a prayer.

  Philadelphia and Anthony.

  “Of course, that in itself is highly improper. Calling one another by our given names, that is.”

  Delia and Tony.

  “You’re rambling, Delia.” His smile was slow and seductive.

  “I never ramble.” What was he waiting for?

  “Perhaps it is time to do a great number of things you have never done.” His voice was low and seductive.

  “Perhaps.” She gazed into his dark eyes and wanted everything they promised. “What do you suggest?”

  “Well, just as a first step, you understand, I would suggest a kiss.”

  “Ah, but I have been kissed before. In fact, I have been kissed by you before.”

  “Indeed you have.” He nodded thoughtfully. “But our kiss at Effington Hall scarcely counts because it was not you I believed I was kissing. Furthermore, it was a first kiss, after all, and you know how inconsequential they are.”

  “Inconsequential?” Her gaze slipped to his lips. “I would hardly call it inconsequential. I thought it quite significant.”

  “Its significance lies primarily in its position as first.”

  “Not as I remember it,” she murmured.

  “Nonetheless, I wouldn’t say it was our best effort.”

  “I thought you did an excellent job of it.”

  “I’m flattered, but I can do much better.”

  “I’m certain you can.” She laughed. “And I suspect the second kiss was far too quick to be at all worthy of the name?”

  “Exactly. It’s scarcely worth mentioning.”

  “Then that leaves us…?”

  “With nothing.” He shrugged. “Not a thing.”

  “My, that is a shame.”

  “However, it does put kissing me on the list of those things you have never done.” He set his glass down on a table, plucked hers from her hand and placed it beside his.

  “Why, so it does.” Her heart thudded with anticipation.

  “And it is past time to remedy that.”

  He slipped his arms around her and pulled her close. His mouth met hers gently, firmly. His lips were warm and tasted of brandy and secrets and promises. She slid her arms around his neck and his kiss deepened. Her lips opened beneath his and his tongue met and mated with hers. The hot thrum of desire welled within her and she noted dimly it was different with him. It was somehow deeper, richer… more. She pressed hard against him, noting the beat of her heart in her ears, the beat of his in her blood. She wanted to lose herself in his embrace, in the excitement of his mouth joined with hers, of his body hard against hers. She wanted…everything.

  He pulled his lips from hers and nuzzled the side of her throat. “I daresay that more than makes up for any perceived inadequacies.”

  She struggled for breath. “I know I am pleased.”

  “What else have you never done, Delia?” he murmured against her neck.

  “Aside from sharing your bed?” she said without thinking.

  He raised his head and stared in surprise. “I thought I’d work my way up to that one.” He wagged his eyebrows in a truly wicked manner. “Although I should like to put it on the list.”

  “Oh, you may certainly put it on the list.” She pulled his lips back to hers. She wanted to taste of him, to drink of him, to drown herself in the sensation of touching him and being touched by him. She wanted to lose her soul to him. Now. Forever.

  He wrenched his lips from hers and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Just out of idle curiosity, mind you” — he kissed the line of her jaw and a lovely spot just below the lobe of her ear — “how long is this list and where is that particular item?”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice had an odd breathless quality. “But I suspect it is moving higher.”

  His hands roamed over her back and lower, to her derriere. “Surely there’s more?”

  Her fingers entwined in his hair and she angled her head to give him greater access. “Yes, well…” His mouth traveled to the base of her throat and she gasped. “I have always wanted to have…a life of grand adventures.”

  “Indeed.” One hand splayed across the small of her back, his other moved slowly and deliberately up her side. “What kind of adventures?”

  “Grand,” she murmured.

  “You said that. What specifically?”

  “I should like to…urn…” It was impossible to hold a rational thought and she said the first thing that popped into her head. “Ride a camel…” His hand caressed her breast and she caught her breath.

  “How interesting.” His breath was warm on her neck. “Anything else?”

  “I…” Her nipples tightened beneath the fabric of her bodice.

  “Drift…down the Nile…” And she wondered if he would rip her dress from her body.

  “I’ve heard the Nile is nice this time of year.”

  And how she could encourage him to do so.

  He cupped her breast and she thought her knees would buckle. “Is there more?”

  “More?” Her breath was short and her mind was fogged. “Yes…well…there could be…I…” She drew his lips back to hers and pressed her body tighter against his. His arousal was evident between the layers of her clothes and his. And still she wanted…

  He pulled his mouth from hers. “What else?” His voice was heavy against her ear. “What else have you never done?”

  “What…” She could barely think. “I have never…never…” I have never shared your bed. Why was that the only thing she could think of?

  He drew back and studied her. “What else?”

  She shook her head and stared up at him. “Do you want a serious answer? Now? This moment?”

  He grinned weakly. “God help me, I believe I do.”

  “Your powers of observation may not be as good as you think them,” she said under her breath.

  Didn’t the man see he could certainly have his way with her at this very moment? Why, she was barely coherent, thanks to the rather remarkable sensations produced by his lips and his hands. Not only would she not protest, but she was willing and eager. It was to his credit that he did not press his advantage of her vulnerable state. He truly was an honorable man. What a pity.

  “Well.” She drew a deep breath and reluctantly stepped away from him. “Those things I have never done are far greater than those I have, although I suppose I have never given them any serious consideration before now.”

  He picked up her glass and h
anded it to her. “Then this is your opportunity to do so.”

  “I suppose. If you insist.” She took a fast swallow of the brandy, noting the trembling of her hand and a far more intense trembling of unsatisfied need deep inside her. “I fear they may sound ridiculous.”

  “It’s been my experience grand adventures always sound ridiculous in the saying of them.”

  “Oh? Have you had many grand adventures, then?”

  He sipped his brandy in a decidedly wicked manner. “One or two.”

  “Tell me about them.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “I think not. Besides, at the moment we are discussing what you want.”

  “Very well.” She thought for a moment. “I have never spouted Shakespeare from a stage.”

  “And?”

  She grinned. “I have never dined with a sheikh.”

  “Surely there’s more.”

  Now that she thought about it, there was a great deal more. “I have never left England’s shores. I have never been sung to in public.” The words came out faster of their own accord. “I have never seen my name in a book.” She widened her eyes. “I have never written a book.”

  He grinned. “Is that all?”

  “Why, no, I don’t believe it is.”

  “Your list is becoming rather lengthy.”

  “It’s entirely your fault for encouraging me.” She drew her brows together and tried to sort out the myriad of exciting ideas filling her head. “I have never posed for a painting alone, without my family or my sister. And I have never done it without benefit of clothing.”

  He laughed. “That’s good to know.”

  “Why?”

  He raised a brow.

  “Never mind.” She cast him a wicked smile. “I know why. Still” — she struck a classical pose — “I should think it would be quite exciting to be painted sans garments, like a Greek goddess.”

  “The Goddess of Love, perhaps?”

  “Unless there is a Goddess of Grand Adventure.” Laughter bubbled up inside her.

  “And where would one hang such a portrait, I wonder,” he murmured.

  She leaned forward and brushed her lips across his. “In one’s bedchamber, I should think.”

  He laughed and reached for her. She danced out of his way. “Now, now, my lord, you started this.”

  “And I should like to finish it,” he growled in a manner at once threatening and terribly exciting. “Is there anything else you have never done that you should like to do?”

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “All manner of things, really.”

  He groaned and rolled his gaze toward the ceiling. “I fear I have opened Pandora’s box.”

  “Indeed you have.” She drank the last of her brandy, set the glass aside and ticked the items off on her fingers. “I never raced a carriage through the streets of London. I have never danced in a fountain —”

  “With or without clothing?”

  “Either. And regarding clothes, I’ve never dressed like a man and slipped into the sacred halls of a gentlemen’s club.”

  “I know you have shocked me now,” he said dryly. “Doesn’t every woman have a secret desire to invade those places forbidden to her?”

  “Probably, though it isn’t something I personally particularly want to do; but, as it is something I’ve never done and would be a bit of an adventure, I thought I should mention it.” She glanced at him. “Or should I limit this list not merely to what I haven’t done, but what I want to do?”

  “I should think so. One has to draw limits somewhere.”

  “Limits, my dear Lord St. Stephens — Tony — have no place on a list of grand adventures.” She thought for a moment, then grinned. “For example, I should very much like to stand on the top of the world and see the sun rise or set or anything at all. Touch the stars, perhaps. Improbable if not impossible, but a desire nonetheless.”

  “So.” He caught her arm and pulled her close against him. “Now that you’ve compiled your list of adventures —”

  “Grand adventures, if you please.”

  “What precisely makes an adventure grand as opposed to ordinary?”

  “I can’t imagine any true adventure being ordinary. As for what makes it grand, I’m not entirely sure, but I’m certain I shall recognize it when it happens. I suppose never having done something before would make it grand.” She considered him thoughtfully. “You do realize this is no more than a cursory list? I’m confident I can add many more adventures.”

  “Where does sharing my bed now fall?” He smiled down at her. “Have I moved up the list or have I been crowded completely off it?”

  “That’s difficult to say,” she teased, and slipped her arms around his neck. “If I tell you you have moved to the top, that confident nature of yours will only make you more arrogant. Besides, you might think me too willing, and I daresay men do not value what comes too easily.”

  “In this case, such a man would be a fool.”

  “Yet, if I tell you you have fallen below a ride on a camel, you might be quite disappointed.”

  “I am disappointed every moment you are not in my arms.” He kissed her again with a fierceness that took her breath away, then reluctantly released her.

  “I should not want you to be disappointed,” she murmured. He had the most devastating effect on her ability to breathe. “Fourth,” she said abruptly.

  “Fourth?” His brows pulled together in confusion.

  “On my list.” She grinned. “You’re number four.”

  “Four? I see.” He nodded thoughtfully. “That’s manageable.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I should be going,” he said firmly.

  “Going? Now? Before…” She stared in disbelief. “Now I am disappointed. You cannot kiss me like that and then bid me a good night.”

  “Believe me, it is as difficult for me as for you. However” — he grinned — “it will strengthen your character.”

  “But we have not yet had…” A glorious passionate encounter beneath the bedcovers. “Dinner. Yes, of course, we have not yet had dinner. You were invited for dinner.” She didn’t want him to leave. Not now, not yet. Not ever.

  “I find my appetite for” — he cleared his throat — “dinner has vanished. And I have plans to make.”

  “What kind of plans?” She studied him warily.

  “Plans for grand adventures.” He grabbed her hand and pulled it to his lips. “Part of the fun of adventure is the surprise inherent in it. I should not like to spoil it for you.”

  “I daresay you couldn’t.” Her gaze met his and the look in his dark eyes promised far more adventures than any mere list could provide.

  “In three days — no, four — in four days I shall return and —”

  “Four days?” She grabbed his jacket and glared. “Four full days? Are you insane?”

  He smiled weakly. “Probably.”

  “Four days? It sounds more like a lifetime.”

  “Delia.” He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close against him. “Your life has changed a great deal this past year. Whether you realize it or not, your desire for grand adventure, your intention to do precisely as you wish and the consequences be damned, could cause you irreparable harm.”

  “I don’t care about my reputation or scandal or —”

  “I care. I don’t want you to blithely throw away what cannot be recovered. Beyond that…” His gaze searched hers. “Damnation, Delia, I want you more than I have ever wanted a woman before, and leaving you now, at this moment, is one of the most difficult things I have ever done. But I feel it is the right thing to do.”

  “You could be wrong,” she said hopefully.

  “I’m not.” He shook his head. “I don’t want you to regret anything that passes between us. You did not know your husband well when you married him. I want you to know me before you decide if you will marry me. I want you to be certain you want to spend the rest of your days with me, and I warn yo
u, I plan on that being a very long time.”

  “Oh, my.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Bid me a good evening.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then turned and started for the door.

  “Sleep well,” she said without so much as a modicum of sincerity.

  “I doubt that’s even remotely possible.” He reached the door, then turned back to her. “I want to share your bed, Delia, but more, I want to share your adventures and your life.”

  He cast her a wicked grin. “And in four days I intend to do just that.”

  Chapter 14

  Dearest Cassie,

  I am in desperate need of your help. You must come to see me as soon as possible.

  Please do not delay. Time is of the essence…

  “This is all you wanted?” Cassie stared at her in disbelief. “Good Lord, I thought at the very least your life was in jeopardy.”

  “It is,” Delia said firmly. “Well, perhaps not my life, but definitely my future.”

  Delia glanced around the large bedroom that had once been Charles’s but was now hers. The windows were bare, as was the bed. All the draperies and linens she had ripped off had been removed while she was away by her new, and quite efficient, staff. Only a feather mattress lay on the bed. She noticed there was a tear in its side — more a cut, really — and wondered that she hadn’t noticed it before. It was of no significance; the mattress had no doubt caught on something.

  “We have to do something about this room and we have three days in which to accomplish it.”

  Cassie crossed her arms over her chest. “Why?”

  “This was Charles’s room and I am not entirely comfortable sleeping in here. But it’s the largest bedchamber and it’s my house now and my room and I need it to be mine.” Indeed, even though she’d made the decision to make this room her own, she actually hadn’t done so yet. The thought of sleeping in the bed she had so briefly shared with Charles was disquieting and she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it.

  “That makes a certain amount of sense, I suppose.” Cassie studied her warily. “But why three days?”